Tag Archives: shit

Super Spooky Halloween Post

I went on a run the other day, and passed a house all decorated for Halloween: black cat cut outs, pumpkins, ghosts strung from a clothesline—classic shit, but not scary at all. The whole notion of Halloween is becoming too traditional; it’s lost its horrifying luster. I understand that at one point (in like the 50’s) the idea of a man who turns into a wolf might have scared the pants off people; literally, they’re scared so bad that they must remove their pants, because the pants have been shat-filled (off subject, but did you know “scared the pants off” is a direct descendent of “scared the shit out”? More on origins of sayings in another post.) Honestly though, ghouls, goblins, and monsters have never been scary in my lifetime. We need to get back to the roots of this spook festival, which is becoming too much of a happy-go-lucky holiday, and strike fear into the soul of people: especially children.

As mentioned, folklore and commerciality are not scary: not the Headless Horseman; not cotton spider webs; and surely not a damn vampire, or (worse) a bloody zombie. No, what’s scary are herpes; rape; Mormons; terrorists; nuclear war; cancer; a guy with a mustache, glasses, and pants pulled up to his chest, handing out candy (not from his doorstep, but) from inside his house; finally, a muscular man in a pretty pink dress. That shit is real. That shit is horrifying. That shit is disturbing, but it’s the shit that Halloween should be all about…shit!

What happened to scaring the hell out of people, namely children? Is it politically incorrect? Is it immoral? Will it hurt their feelings? Good. Good. Great. This time of year has become too much fun for kids, and I want to take away those precious moments; bring them into the real world, where candy and super heroes won’t solve problems. Leave them with non-repairable mental scars, rather than a fictitious happiness that they’ll never find in the real world. Here’s how I picture it going:

A child approaches the doorstep, and I’m dressed as I am above (the sexiest slut at the bar, which was so true, bitches). Gazing up my hairy legs, he looks at my menacing smile. Fear slowly sinks in, yet he’ll fight the piss running down his leg for that sweet treat. Little does he know, I don’t have any candy…I have steroids. That’s right, the intravenous type. I also have crack, but I’m keeping that for now. I drop a syringe, and vile into his stupid pumpkin container; the handle of which looks about ready to snap from the cheap Chinese plastic. (I hope it does, too; I always had to use a damn pillowcase, or grocery bag: neither of which were ever without large holes.) The child is lost in utter confusion. Sensing this, I say in my deepest voice, “Trick, or treat…” laughing ever so creepily as I shut the door, and get the hell out of my neighbor’s house. I leave the crack, and wait for the cops to roll up.

Now tell me, is that not the scariest shit you’ve ever heard? Well, I’m sure it’s at least close. With this country losing it’s ethics day by day, we need someone who will stand up, and make things right. This person would be me, except Dan Ray Sucks; so, if you don’t take it into your own hands to uphold the Halloween tradition by getting rid of those terrible scarecrows, rubber bats, and cans of spring worms, and (instead) re-introduce the idea of scaring the shit out of people by any means possible, then you suck, too.

Tips to suck less:
-Leave a comment.
-Follow.
-fb/tweet/just tell your friends, friends’ friends, random bums–I don’t care, just do it.
-Finally, smash some pumpkins, and TP some houses.

Things Guys Do…in the bathroom

I have this tendency to make bathroom jokes, not because I’m an immature comedian, but because they are just so relevant.  I’m going to (use some puns and) cut the crap, so we get straight to the good shit.  I’ve come up with A List of Things Guys Instinctually Do in the Powder Room…Gun Powder, That Is:

-Pee on something – Whether using the stream as a laser beam to split a piece of toilet paper in half, sinking a floating object (and keeping it sunk), or being outdoors and going on whatever you please; essentially, we’re reverting back to a caveman state of mind by marking our territory.
-We like to go from high objects.
-We like to test our distance.
-We have trouble aiming in the wee hours of the morning.
-We don’t make eye contact in public restrooms – especially not at a urinal.  Jesus, that’s just asking for an ridicule, an ass beating, or the unwanted affection of someone who takes your glance  the wrong way.
-We don’t wash our hands after peeing, even if a little dribble gets on the fingertip.
-We leave the door open, and the seat up, because…well, we just do damn it.
-Finally, we take pride in what we’ve done, but only if it’s a notable accomplishment worthy of a picture to a friend.

Again, sorry for the potty humor, but I had this idea came to me as I was in the middle of…I don’t think I need to explain.  The restroom is a sacred, ritualistic site for the male sex: it’s the only place a guy can really feel free and natural.  There’s something about the privacy, the peace, and the potpourri that brings a man back to his rugged, stinky roots.  Dropping trou connects us men to our past: to a time where beasts roamed the earth, and the phrase “shit or get off the stump” was not the subject of a patience matter, but rather a life, or death matter.  It’s not just me, either; every man shares these, or similar tendencies.

The restroom makes everything equal.  It takes away anything that makes us different, and shows only the human side of people: there’s no race, no judgement, no jealousy of whose wife has nicer tits, and absolutely no such thing as class—only primitive beasts.  A porcelain nature you won’t find in the female shitter.  Anyway, these are my deep thoughts on the poop room, which is why Dan Ray Sucks; and if you think that the restroom is more than a place to do your SSS (Shit-Shower-Shave), then you need something more important to think about, because you suck, too.

Tips to suck less:
-Leave a comment.
-Follow.
-fb/tweet/just tell your friends, friends’ friends, random bums–I don’t care, just do it.
-Finally, stop writing bathroom jokes.